Merry Christmas?
by Cantaloupe
Summary: Well, it starts out with Bosco sporting a white beard... but I don't really know yet where it's heading. I began writing this a long time ago, so it's far from up-to-date with the things that's happened in the show.


Disclaimer: I do this for fun, not for profit, if anyone happened to think so. I'm sorry to say that I don't own anything here, possibly apart from the plot, and I have no idea who does. Edward Allen Bernero & John Wells? NBC? Warner Bros. Television? I just like to play a little with their great characters.  
  
This is my first fanfiction ever, so bear with me. I've posted a part of this once before, but then I got stuck so I took it down again, I'll try to finish it this time though. So, here we go again...

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**Merry Christmas?**  
  
It was a Monday morning near christmas, and due to the increasing committing of crimes at this time of the year, Bosco had been ordered to patrol the streets by foot. It was better than to be teamed up with some rookie, but he was still enormously grateful that Faith would be of desk duty next week. Especially since he was forced to dress as Santa Claus. For some unknown reason the superintendent had thought it a good idea for him to wear itching, synthetic beard and a pillow strapped to his waist. He felt like an idiot, and the only positive aspect in this whole thing was that he already had gotten half the kettle filled with money to the children's hospital.  
Suddenly a well-known scenario a little further up the street caught Boscos attention. The "actors" were an older man in an overcoat, a young man that just happened to bump into him and stopped to apologize, and another young man who approached behind. Bosco had seen it many times before and knew exactly what was going to happen.  
He started to walk towards the men with quick steps. When he closed in he picked up the speed to double quick, before he threw himself over one of the young men and pushed him up against the nearest wall.  
  
"Where's the wallet?" he asked curtly.  
  
"What are you talking about" the young man protested.  
  
"Where - is - the - wallet?" Bosco repeated, in his usuall eh... polite, hrm... way.  
  
"You have no right...!  
  
Bosco heard the soft thump when the wallet fell to the ground. He bent down and picked it up with his free arm.  
  
"You dropped this."  
  
"I have no idea where that came from!"  
  
Bosco opened the wallet with his thumb and spotted a driver's license.  
  
"It says here that you are sixty-eight years old. And the picture... it's unbelievable. By some reason this mans face has been placed on your license."  
  
He nodded towards the older man whose facial expression showed great confusion. Bosco read his name on the license.  
  
"This fellow here stole your wallet, Mr. Russo."  
  
"Good heavens!" Mr. Russo shook his head and pressed one hand to his chest. "Imagine, Santa Claus himself saved me from a pickpocket..."  
  
Bosco smiled slightly. Sully and Davis should be there any minute now, their orders were to patrol the area while Bosco was playing Santa. Sure enough, half a minute later the RMP came rolling up to them. After a short explanation of what'd happened, Bosco pushed the little punk into the car.  
  
"His partner ran away." he told them. "But with the help of a little torture I believe you can make this idiot here turn him in."  
  
"Sure," Davis nodded and blinked at Bosco. "First we read him his rights and then we torture him. Sounds like a good plan to me."  
  
Mr. Russo left his testimony to the two cops in uniform, and when Bosco had adjusted his costume he returned to his kettle and his bell.

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When the Friday arrived he had managed to stop several robberies and an assault, as well as capture a dope peddler along with one of his customers in a narrow alley between the stationer's shop and the video store. In other words, he had sentenced some poor colleague to continue with the masquerade on indefinite time, or at least 'till christmas was over.

The moment he put down the bell to investigate the mysterious shadows he had seen in the alley behind a jewelry store on -----, his intuition told him that whatever awaited him it wouldn't be very pleasant.

The suspect was a shabbily dressed man in his early twenties. The assaulted woman was in the same age, but more well dressed – probably a secretary or the like out christmas shopping after work. The knife was big enough to skin a bear, and the man was pressing it against the woman's throat. He had just given her an obscene command when Bosco pulled his gun.  
  
"Police! Drop the knife!"  
  
The man didn't drop his knife, but he let go of the woman. Half a second later he disappeared around the corner of the brick building, and Bosco took up the chase.

When out on the sidewalk, the culprit tried to hide in the crowd. Bosco put the gun away – he couldn't use it anyway when there were so many people that might get in the way. But the suspect still had his knife, and he held it ready to strike when he ploughed trough the crowd, which fortunately divided in front of him.

Bosco ran as fast as he could and barely gave the knife a thought. Sure, there was the risk of getting injured, seriously injured, but that was part of the equation. Despite what some people thought he wasn't a lunatic, imagining himself as immortal, or taking hazardous risks just for the fun of it. But he had witnessed a serious crime – assault with a deadly weapon – and it was his job to catch the ruthless perpetrator.

The pedestrians threw themselves out of his way, and he hoped that they would keep doing so. If anyone crossed his path in the wrong moment they would most likely be trampled down, but he didn't want to slow down, because that could result in him losing contact with the fleeing man. Therefore he kept running, and was soon close enough to tackle the creep. He threw himself at the man, got a grip on one of his ankles and pulled him to the ground.

Bosco saw the glint of silver in the little f--kers hand when they rolled around on the slushy boardwalk. He didn't feel the first stab, but he heard the sleeve of his coat rip when the long blade of the knife cut trough it. When they rolled over again he noticed that big, red stains had started to spread in the sleet.

But not even then Bosco felt any pain, only rage against this scumbag who had dragged an innocent woman into an alley and threatened her life, and now had the impudence to fight against him. He used his hand to ward of the second stab, but the blade cut easily trough his gloves. More blood trickled down on to the boardwalk. His blood.

Exasperated by equal parts of anger, indignation and the feel for justice that stopped good cops from surrender, he used his fist. The kid almost lost consciousness by the heavy blow and before he had the chance to repay, he lay face down in the snow. The knife fell out of his hand when Bosco cuffed him.

Bosco rolled him over on his back again and placed his knees on his chest, and first now he allowed his reflexes to weaken a bit. He fumbled for his radio, and when he pulled it out to call for assistance he realized that the glove was soaked with blood and he had a prickling feeling in his fingers. If you went by the stains in the snow he had lost quite a lot of blood, which meant that he probably would fall flat on his face if he tried to get up. Therefore he stayed sitting on the seized man while he talked to the nearest squad car. The blood continued to trickle trough the red Santa costume as he tiredly waited for someone to take him away from there.

Boscos vision was getting increasingly blurry and he felt lightheaded. He saw Kim jump out of the bus that had pulled to a stop beside them, and he could see her talking to him, but he couldn't hear anything but the buzzing sound in his ears. Kim's concerned face as she reached for him to stop him from collapsing in the snow was the last thing he saw before everything went black.

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TBC... (If I ever manage to put my vague ideas together.) Reviews are very welcome!


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